


Requiem for Doom

by Wu_the_Stoic



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Other, Sexual Assault, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2020-09-06 14:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wu_the_Stoic/pseuds/Wu_the_Stoic
Summary: Dib, now a junior in high school is the subject of a small gang of violent bullies. When Zim finds out, their days are numbered and Dib learns he's more valued than he realized.





	1. The beginning of wanting the end.

The lunchroom was packed. Naturally. Zim grunted as he cast a narrow glare about the bustling room while he gripped his tray tightly in both hands. He searched fruitlessly for a spot to sit in peace away from the horrible teenaged dirt-monkeys, but today, he was out of luck. There… _was_ a spot, but he’d rather be taken as a sex slave on the planet Splorch than to sit in the proffered seat. Someone bumped into him from behind and he stifled the urge to curse at them as his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace. Casting one last glance around, he lifted his shoulders and stalked stiffly towards the spot.

Dib didn’t even glance upwards when the tray was slammed roughly onto the table before him.

There was a moment of silence before Zim, still standing, spoke up. “I _said_,” he said, and then lifted his tray, only to slam it back down before Dib’s. He noticed that the human had barely touched the disgusting foul mess that was called food. Zim frowned, but at least he had finally gotten the young man’s attention.

“What is it, Zim?” Dib asked tiredly. “_Something_?”

“_Why_ is this the only seat available?” Zim asked as he finally sat down.

“I don’t know,” Dib answered softly as he opened his soda. He cut his eyes away from the alien as he took a long drink. “Maybe everyone collectively felt that I needed to suffer today, so they left it open... just for you.”

Zim narrowed one eye. That had felt like a dig.

“That felt like a dig,” he said flatly.

Finally, Dib turned his attention fully upon his foe. “Really?” he said, his voice although still sounding weary, dripped with compassionate sarcasm. “I’m so _sorry_, Zim.”

“What’s with _you_ today?” Zim grunted as he lifted his spoon. “As if I cared!” he added quickly, lest the human thought that he would have the audacity to care about his wellbeing.

“What _do_ you care?” Dib asked, his tone still a bit heavy.

“I said I didn’t!”

“Well… good, then.”

“Yes,” Zim agreed. “It’s very good! Very good indeed!” Lowering his eyes, he glanced down at his own tray. Day after day, year after year until they were juniors in Hi-Skool he had bought the hideous food, but he barely touched it. It was disgusting. The peas were fun to flick, though, and so he did. He watched with baited amusement as the soft green orb bounced off of Dib’s forehead. Gripping the edge of the table, he even found himself leaning forward with anticipation as a grin began to pull up the left corner of his mouth. Oh, how he had missed arguing with the Dib-stink. It’d been months since they’d had a really good go at each other. His grin quickly faded as Dib lowered his head and poked at his piece of cornbread instead.

Zim leaned back and tilted his head. What was going on? Dib wasn’t… outgrowing him again, was he? Not like that horrible time when they were still small. Letting out a soft snort in an effort to keep the rising panic at bay, he lined up another pea. “I _said_,” he said, and then flicked it again. It glanced off the rim of Dib’s glasses and landed on the floor somewhere behind his left shoulder.

“I _hear_ you loud and clear, Zim,” Dib answered quietly as he finally lifted his face to make eye contact with the Irken. He even quirked his mouth up at the corners in a facsimile of a smile before lowering his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“What is wrong with you?” Zim hissed as he leaned forward once again.

“I’m tired,” Dib murmured. “I’m just… real tired, Zim. Just real tired.” He lowered his head again and Zim frowned when he spied a shadow along Dib’s throat that shouldn’t be. His fingertips tickled the sensitive flesh into goosebumps as they brushed along Dib’s neck, plucking at the stretched neck of his t-shirt to get a better look at what turned out to be a rather nasty set of bruises imprinted into the skin.

“Who did this?” Zim asked, plucking at the neck once more to steal another quick look. Dib was already growing agitated at the unwanted touch. On his collar bone was a bruise that ran along the length of it; red and nasty and accompanied by a large scrape on his shoulder. Zim sat back in his seat, but when Dib lifted his face to argue, his mouth suddenly snapped shut. Never had he seen such a piercing look in Zim’s eye. He couldn’t begin to imagine the electricity in them without the contacts.

“_Who_ did this?” Zim asked again with a slow grim patience that made his words come out in a low growl.

“Nobody,” Dib whispered as he lowered his head. He poked his cornbread again, and then broke it apart to crumble idly between his fingers.

“Ah,” Zim said softly. The cornbread was edible, so he lifted his own and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as he gazed at Dib. He berated himself for not noticing it sooner. He had thought, perhaps, that Dib was trying to outgrow him once again, and that _that_ was the reason the human had been avoiding him for the past few months. It happened from time to time and they usually fixed that annoying little burp in their lives in quick fashion. (Though the mere thought of it always terrified the Irk out of him. If anyone were to play hider in the game of hide and seek, well, that was his job) This time was different and Zim realized with a growing feeling of offense that his human was broken.

He swallowed his bite and felt his antenna press hard to his scalp from beneath his wig. Anger stirred within his belly, though he held onto a state of calmness very well. Nobody broke Dib but Zim, and try as he might; he had never accomplished that task. Truth be told, he never really _wanted_ to. If Dib were broken, then where was the fun in trying to break him?

There was someone, or perhaps a few somebodies out there that had no idea the price they were about to pay. They had no idea of who (or _what_) they had crossed. No idea of what happened when you truly, _truly_ pissed off an Irken Invader.

*****

The distant sound of the train’s horn was lonely and desolate and it resonated with Dib’s soul. He stood on a bank that sloped gently towards the tracks, his head down and mind made up. There was nothing left inside but a numbness that hummed through his entire system like a weak powerline downed in a storm. He hurt, but he felt nothing. The horn sounded again, the call lost in the distance but growing closer. His heartbeat counted down the time left until he deemed it should stop. Slowly, he balled his fists.

He’d left a note on his desk, apologizing to his father and his sister. He told them that he loved them, asked them to forgive him and to think of him from time to time. He told them that he would miss them.

Dib lifted his face and sniffled back a bit of blood that was still trickling from his nose. The lower half of his face was a crimson smear. His shirt was torn in several places, his trench coat scuffed and dirty. His jeans caked in mud. They had broken two ribs this time, he could tell by the way each inhale was agony. He had no idea where his glasses were.

The wind picked up again, chilly from the early fall that was sluggishly deciding to turn cold. He could see the sky, amazingly blue and he longed to change his mind. How could someone die under a sky so blue and clear and beautiful? For a moment his mind screamed at him to turn around. Just turn around, go home and call the police and then what? It wouldn’t stop his troubles, it would only compound them. Instead, he shook his head and braced himself. The train was perhaps a mile away or less and picking up speed. It would be over quickly; he probably would feel just the initial impact, and then sweet nothing. All he had to do now was gather the courage to step over the railing of this embankment, shove himself forward and run as hard as he could to the tracks. Close his eyes. Wait. He made sure that his wallet was hooked to a chain on his belt loop, that way, they would have an easier time identifying his body. Maybe his dad wouldn’t have to do it.

One leg over, he gripped the galvanized steel tightly in both hands. It was warm from the sun. It felt good to the touch. He held on for just a moment longer, and then another. The chug of the engine was growing louder now and he pulled his other leg over and turned, pressing the backs of his legs against the rail. The heat eased through his jeans like a soothing hand. Just press forward.

Dib closed his eyes, taking deep rapid breaths as he began to build the courage he needed to let go. The horn blatted again and his heart skipped a beat in fear. One, two…

Grimacing, he pushed himself forward, his feet running fast down the embankment as momentum pulled him towards the tracks, to the end of this miserable existence. The horn sounded again, this time longer, full of panic as the driver tried to warn the foolish boy to stop what he was doing.

_Forgive me..._

And then the breath was knocked from his body. His foot caught on an outcropping as arms wound around him tightly from behind and he landed on his bad side, the left, and began to roll. His body, along with the one who was holding onto him, began to hitch and roll and Dib cried out in alarm. He didn’t know who it was that had ahold of him, but he didn’t want to take them with him. The tracks were growing closer, so close he could see the individual gravel along the sides of the rails. Could see the grains of wood in the edges of the cross ties, and then, a thin metal leg came out, lifting them up and shoving them backwards.

_Zim_…

_No!_

_Foolish human!_

He opened his eyes as the train cars rumbled by, the screech hiss and bounce as the brakes were applied. Zim’s face swam into his vision, but since he was far sighted, it was mostly a blur. He could tell the alien was sneering, however, by the white that broke up the pale green skin.

“Why?” he cried out. “Why? Why?! WHY?!”

“Indeed,” Zim answered calmly. The cars going by were beginning to slow down, the wheels still screaming on the tracks as the driver continued to hang on tightly to the brake lever. Beneath him, the human continued to question why. Why had Zim stopped him? Why had Zim intervened? Where had he been before? Why couldn’t he stop the other (thebadthing!) when all he could stop was his suicide? Zim frowned as he studied Dib’s bloody and agonized face.

“Dib!” he commanded. “Calm yourself.” He found he had to grasp Dib’s wrists to keep him from fighting as the human struggled to get out from beneath Zim’s grip. To Dib’s surprise, the Irken was amazingly strong. He didn’t even flinch at his efforts of escape, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t even appear as if he were really putting in much exertion at all to restrain him, but the hold he had on Dib’s wrists was like iron. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time before Dib burst into tears.

“I can’t take it; I can’t take it anymore, Zim! The beatings… they violated me! They _violated me again and I can’t take it anymore!_”

“Violated you?” Zim asked, tilting his head in confusion. Dib had turned his face away, tears still rolling without restraint, cutting through the blood marring his cheeks, and then finally it hit him. “oh… no… no, Dib…” he whispered in dread.

“Why didn’t you let me die?” the soft voice, broken from the sudden bought of weeping, asked.

_You're not the one who's going to be dying, Dib._

Zim leaned back, pulling Dib into a sitting position, and there he pressed the bloody and weeping face to his shoulder while he held the back of his head protectively. There was a shout behind him as the Engineer ran towards the boys and he turned his head slightly in irritation.

*****

The cars of the train jumped, rattled, and then bumped. A simple flash of a little device created on Vort helped the Engineer and driver to forget everything they saw on the side of the tracks that afternoon. The last thing Zim needed was more humans asking questions. He got Dib to his feet and slowly helped him back up the embankment as the train picked up speed, and then sat him down on the guardrail so he could better assess, well, everything. There were so many wounds, inside and out that he would have to fix, but, who better to do so than Zim? Dib would need his superior Irken brain to repair this mess.

“You’re staying home tomorrow,” Zim ordered as he pulled Dib’s shirt up and over his chest as he inspected the battered torso.

“I can’t, I have to go to school,”

“That wasn’t a request. You will come to my house in the morning.” Lifting Dib’s chin, Zim took a long look at his neck before sneering. So many bruises in the shape of finger prints on his skin. “How many?”

“Four,” Dib murmured.

“Mmm,” came the reply.

“Breathing hurts,” Dib whispered. “I think they broke my ribs.”

“They’ll grow back,” Zim said dismissively as he lowered Dib’s shirt.

*****

Dib tended his own wounds.

Zim had gone as far as walking him home, but the tender ministrations ended at that. The human was left to trudge into a lonely and dark house, where he shed his torn and bloody clothing, ran a bath, and sat there until the water had gone cold. He washed the blood from his face, along with the dirt and grime, a few bits of gravel, until it was gone. Nothing left but cuts and bruises now, mostly hidden easily beneath clothing. He let out the old water to refill the tub with clean and hot, and there he dozed lightly until the front door banged shut.

“Dib!” Gaz’s voice reached him. “Where are you?” She was angry. She was always angry. He didn’t have the energy to confront her.

Her footsteps heavy on the stairs as she continued to search for him. “DIB!”

Closing his eyes, Dib leaned his head back against the wall. He could cut his wrists and be done with it. Not much to clean up since he was still in the tub, however, just the thought of getting up to go fetch a knife exhausted him. Gaz knocked on the bathroom door.

“I know you’re in there, Dib. Why didn’t you walk with me to the store after school like dad said?”

“I’m sorry, Gaz,” he sighed. “Something came up.”

“I can’t hear you through the door.”

“Then open it,” he called louder.

“Yeah, right. Nobody wants to see you naked, Dib.”

Flashes crossed his mind. He had tried to take another route home this time, but they were waiting. They were always waiting. This time two of the boys had pulled him into an alleyway. One held his mouth painfully while the other pinned his arms roughly behind his back as they waited for the other two. Their companions as they called one another. The thought of such a silly name for subhuman brutes caused Dib to let out a sound that was half snort, half laugh.

Hands were all over him, faces swirling and interchanging one for the other. Hands grabbing, clutching, squeezing until his lungs screamed for air. He fought, he struggled, he kicked one of them somewhere, perhaps upon the leg, and then they fell upon him like a pack of rapid dogs.

Dib closed his eyes tightly, fighting hard to will the pain of the memory away, to will the pain his body was still feeling far, far away. To banish the shame to the extreme reaches of the galaxy.

They pressed his face into the old neglected asphalt of the alleyway as his pants were yanked down without ceremony. Laughter, more blows to his body, though he wasn’t sure if they were caused by fists or weapons. He never gave up his struggle for freedom. He knew what came next and it filled his heart with fearful dread.

Entry. Sudden, sharp and painful, just like last time, and the time before.

Rodger led this group of boys who were old enough by now to vote and should have graduated at least two years ago. Rodger always got his prize and he never shared until today. Today he was feeling generous. As Dib was held down with one boy apiece holding his arms and another sitting on his legs, Rodger took his prize, ejaculating quickly. He traded places with the boy holding Dib’s legs. Thankfully he was partially flaccid and did nothing more than give a few pumps before crying out in triumph. He traded places with one holding Dib’s right arm, and then, the last boy had his victory fuck.

They left Dib lying in the dark alley; his pants down around his thighs as the youth lay panting and stunned on the ground, watching them walk away. Two of them, perhaps Rodger and the smaller one, the second to have a go at him, his name was Perry. He could swear it was Rodger and Perry that high fived each other before entering the light to turn left and head down to hang out at the pool hall. They took his glasses with them as a trophy.

The door opened slowly. Gaz had grown nervous at the sound of her brother’s silence, patient as she spoke through the door for nearly five minutes. Dib was in the tub, his eyes wide in his injured face as he stared ahead at nothing. She had no desire to see him in such a vulnerable position, but who else was there to handle this odd situation?

Carefully she kneeled down and put her hand out, slowly waving it before his eyes, but he may as well have been a statue, lifelike and formed in the shape of her brother. He was breathing, she could hear the minute shaky exhales, but that was all. Just as she felt that perhaps it was for the best to call her father, Dib’s hand came out with the speed of lightning, grasping her wrist tightly. She was annoyed with this at first until she turned her head, and when their eyes locked, her heart seemed to pause for a moment.

“Don’t. Tell. Dad,” Dib said in a hoarse voice. He spoke in a clenched jaw and to Gaz, it was as if he were afraid to even move.

“Dib… what _happened_ to you?” She didn’t know whether he had just read her mind, or she his.

“I have to go to Zim’s house in the morning. I won’t be at school…”

“What?” Gaz shook her head. “Did Zim do this to you?”

Dib managed to give his head a hard short shake. “No, but he… he saved me.”

She lowered her voice to a gentle whisper. “Saved you? Dib… what’s going on, I don’t understand…”

“don’t tell dad…” Dib whispered back, his steely eyes now full of pleading.

“I don’t like this,” she responded quietly. “But… okay… are you all done in here?”

Dib slowly released Gaz’s wrist to drop his hand limply back into the water. “I guess so,” he murmured, once again staring at the faucet as if it had some important information that it wished to share.

“Alright, I’ll bring you some pajamas and then get the med kit. You’re pretty beat up,” she said in a firmer tone of voice. She dearly hoped that would make the trepidation in her heart fade.

It did.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Gaz who showed up at Zim’s door the following morning. She wanted answers, but Zim simply had none. Up until that moment they held the same amount of information that pertained to Dib.

_Well_, Zim mused to himself as he watched with lidded eyes Gaz as she gazed up with curiosity towards his ceiling. She’d been in his home only a handful of times, and had never cared before to take the opportunity to really get a good look at the place. _I do have… some… information that is best for her not to be privy to_. _At least not at the moment._

“And you’ve made sure that he didn’t go to school today?”

“I did. It wasn’t hard, anyway. I slipped him a sleeping pill in his juice when I brought him breakfast this morning. He’s out like a light.”

“Good,” Zim said slowly, and the calculation in his voice caused the girl to frown.

“Are you sure that you’re telling me everything?”

“As much as I _can_ tell you,” Zim assured her as he herded her to the door. “For the time being. Now, run along and make sure the stink-filth doesn’t slip out and try to go to school or anything. I’ve got work to do, but I’ll be there this afternoon.”

“Alright,” Gaz sighed. “Just… call me if there’s anything else I can do. I _really_ want to hurt those guys. They’ve been bothering him since before school let out last year.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“About what?”

“When it started.”

She blinked at him. “As much as my brother and you stalk each other, it really is strange that you never noticed this before, _Zim_.” She punctuated his name as if it were the plea in a guilty verdict and the alien shifted from foot to foot. Ah yes, here came more guilt to spin around in his guts. Not that it hadn’t already sullied them up during the night as it was. He waved his hand at her, dismissing the human.

“Mistakes were made, Dib-sister, but I assure you; they won’t happen again.” He closed the door slowly on her and the way his eyes locked into hers gave her a sense of… strangeness. It was if he had the odd ability to wither her soul with a single glare, though she knew that it wasn’t really her that he was truly scowling at. For the first time, she understood just how dangerous this alien was. She decided to put her head down and wait.

Wait for Zim.

“What a stupid thing,” she muttered as she turned and headed down the front walk.

* * *

Everything hurt, yet felt numb. Dib lie on his back in the bed, now at a diagonal as he had tried and miserably failed to get up. His legs were two iron rods fleshed in putty that had no desire to obey him, his arms as useful as cooked spaghetti. His head spun and he briefly wondered if it was just trying to catch up with the room. His moan masked the sound of Gaz shutting the front door behind her.

He made another attempt to rise, his upper body slouching forward and then arching backwards, but somehow, he was able to keep his palms firmly upon the mattress. “Oh…” he groaned slowly as he tried to force his legs to cooperate. One foot made contact with the floor, and then the other. Dib counted that a victory as his head continued to swim as a result of the dissolved pill Gaz had slipped into his juice that morning. To classify him as a lightweight was to devalue the term understatement.

“There we go,” Dib muttered as he forced his upper body forward. He was now slouched over his own lap, his hand gripping the foot post of his bed like a vice. The floor seemed inviting as it swam up and down in his blurry field of vision and for a moment; he felt giddy before another wave of vertigo struck. He closed his eyes tightly until the moment passed, and then with the greatest effort of will, he pulled his drunken body up into a semblance of a standing position.

“What are you doing?” Gaz spoke up from the doorway. Her tone was strict, but gentle.

“Time’sit?” Dib slurred as he fought to lift his head. It was hard to focus on her now as she approached him.

“Eleven thirty,” came the answer as she took hold of his shoulders. “Bathroom?”

“Mmm,” Dib said, his eyes closing tightly as his head dipped forward. His bladder felt roughly the size of the hoover dam and he was pretty sure it was ready to burst.

Together, the siblings shuffled to the door and Gaz had time to lament the fact that her brother was growing taller by the month. He was lanky, too, which made him far more flexible than was comfortable as she led his inebriated form across the hall to the bathroom, where she got him as far as the sink. She gave him his dignity as she let him relieve his overfull bladder in privacy and when he called out, it wasn’t to let her know he was done, but because there had been blood in his urine.

“Bruised my kidneys,” he said in mild panic before using the sink to edge his way to the door after he flushed away evidence of another crime gone by.

“Are you in pain?” she asked as he fumbled with the doorknob.

“Yeah… but right now, I feel weird. Feel heavy… drunk.”

“How would _you_ know what drunk feels like,” she chided softly. Best to keep up the anger, the brusque nature that would help her cope with this horrible situation. She had found the note he had left behind for his family while he peed and read it twice in horror. He was honestly going to go through with it? He was going to kill himself? It now resided in her front right pocket, a wadded up ball of useless paper.

“Don’t know,” came the weary answer after what felt like a million years of hesitation. Dib let Gaz put his arm around her shoulders and then allowed her to lead him back to his room. His bed looked to him like a welcome oasis in the middle of the desert and by the time he fell back into it, unconsciousness had pulled its veil firmly around him. Gaz rolled him over onto his side with his back facing the room, and then covered him up as she felt the room would grow too chilly for his poor body as he was clad only in a pair of boxers. Maybe later she could get him into a t-shirt before slipping him another one of their dad’s pain pills.

Maybe Zim would have something better for him to take. She made a mental note to ask him when he arrived that afternoon.

* * *

“I need their names,” Zim said, making no preamble after Gaz had opened the door to allow him to enter.

She narrowed her eyes, but shut it with a soft click before sighing softly. “I don’t know _all_ their names.”

“Let’s…” Turning, Zim lifted a brow as he gazed at her with an electric intensity she’d never seen in him before. “Begin with the smallest one. Work our way up, shall we?”

“Zim…” Gaz tilted her head as she approached the alien. “I don’t know what it is that you think you can do, but… I think the authorities would be the best course of action.” She frowned, as Zim began to slowly shake his head as he spoke. “What?”

“Do you want the humiliation of your brother?”

“What?” she asked again, narrowing an eye in confusion.

“Do you want his humiliation?” Zim repeated firmly as he reached out and took her by the biceps. Gaz tried to jerk her arms away, but his grip was like cold steel, his eyes narrowed and his lips parted just enough to show the edge of fangs.

“Let _go_ of me,” she began her threat, and in the past, it used to work. Zim had never truly feared her the way Dib had. No, he had mostly ignored her and therefore was mercifully spared her particular brand of wrath. Maybe on another day in another situation, he would have paid heed to the rage forming on her face, but now she realized that her fury was only dulled in comparison to his that he kept so well masked.

“Not now, Dib-sister. Stay your threats,” he ground out. His tone was gravely and he spoke in such a low voice that she could barely hear him. Gaz swallowed once, and then nodded.

“You… kept something from me, didn’t you?” When Zim only continued to pin her with that intense stare, his fingers still gripping her biceps, she grew angry once more. “_Didn’t you_!?”

“Yes,” he whispered, the word ending in a diabolical hiss.

“What?” Gaz whispered through clenched teeth. She could feel her pulse in her throat as her anger and trepidation mixed together and then rose like mercury.

Zim’s lips parted as if he were deciding to speak, and then thinking better of it. His fingers loosened just enough to take away the pain of their hold, but he made no move to let her go. Gaz felt for a fleeting moment that perhaps he was restraining her so she didn’t turn and bolt from the house to exact revenge on her own. The more time that ticked by, the more her fear began to grow.

_“Tell me_,” she hissed, her eyes now pleading with her captor.

Inhaling slowly, Zim leaned forward, his jaw brushing her cheek as he whispered his secret into her left ear; the final bit of Dib’s humiliation those cowards had exacted upon him as they gang raped him without mercy in the alleyway.

Her dismayed cry of agony startled Dib out of his dwindling drug induced slumber.

* * *

It was suppertime when Dib finally came fully to. He rubbed his face slowly and then lamented the loss of his glasses. Contacts would be great, but he just had a problem with sticking anything in or near his eye. It gave him the creeps even if it was his own fingers. He gasped as he sat up slowly, expecting pain to fully bloom out along his body, but there was only a mild tugging at his side and a gentle warmth in his chest.

“That’s odd,” he muttered as he pushed the covers off his lower legs and then rose. On another barely remembered trip to the bathroom, Gaz had managed to get a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt onto her brother. He felt gratitude well up in his heart for her. She really was a great sister when she wasn’t trying to kill him.

Zim had been here, too. And his glasses… there they were on the side table. He slipped them on, blinked owlishly, and then eased himself to his feet. One more trip to the bathroom and he would go downstairs. He felt better in body, even a bit in mind and soul. Tender loving care had begun the healing process in his spirit, though it was still gravely wounded. It was the fact that there was _someone_ in this world who cared that lifted just a bit of the burden from his shoulders.

He was so tired.

Gaz had even hugged him after she got his t-shirt on, he remembered that. She kept her forehead against his shoulder as she held onto him and he vaguely remembered assuring her that he was okay and that he wouldn’t do anything foolish. He patted her back awkwardly with a heavy hand before she pulled away with a sudden sniff and forced him to lie down. She then bundled him up with blankets, put his favorite radio station on a low setting, and then gathered up his laundry.

His urine was still tinged pink; it would take time for the bruising on his poor kidneys to heal. Those guys had really worked them over this time. Dib shook his head as he flushed, and then went to wash his hands and brush his teeth. His mouth felt like he had sucked on a wool sock for the past hour and at that mental image, he grimaced at himself in the small mirror. Then his eyes took on a far off stare as memories began to surface.

All those hands coming at him at once; pinching, scratching, restraining him. His back scraped raw as he was forced down against the broken remains of a concrete piling that had been busted up out of boredom in the dark alleyway. His chest, it too scraped raw as he was flipped over. There were abrasions on his chin where someone had held him by the hair at the back of his head, holding his face down. It was a miracle that his nose hadn’t been broken or that he had escaped this attack without missing or damaged teeth.

Fingernails cutting the skin of his hips as his jeans were roughly yanked down without the courtesy of unfastening them first, they were in such haste to claim their victory. Dib struggled, cried out before a large hand was clamped over his mouth. His head pulled back roughly and exposing his long swan-like neck. Blows rained down onto him, pain bloomed, vision dimmed through a sheen of unshed tears. Agony. Penetration. Despair followed by loathing and the dulcet sound of moans above him as his body was rocked roughly. First by one, then by another, and another, and another.

Through his parted lips, a moan slowly escaped him as he fought to push the event from his mind. Make it go away, just go away! The urge to once again run towards the train barreling down the tracks began to grow sweeter to his broken mind. He closed his eyes tightly, his hands gripping the sink as a keening wail erupted from him to rise to a heartbroken crescendo. Catching himself, lest Gaz should hear, he clamped one hand over his mouth and lifted his eyes to the mirror. Staring back at him in the reflection, just over his hunched shoulder, was Zim.

Zim staring back at him in restrained rage.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay and the crap quality. Been a tough time for a bit, and I don't know if I can update like I usually do, but... for those who've stuck around. Thank you. I'm sorry this chapter is crappy. Much love.

Dib’s eyes grew wide as he locked his gaze with the reflection of Zim’s in the bathroom mirror. The alien said nothing, did nothing, just remained standing as stock still as a statue.

_What is going through your mind, Zim_? Dib pondered before breaking eye contact to lower his gaze.

“What?” he asked, his shoulders still hunched as he continued to grip the sink.

Slowly, Zim canted his head, his thoughts processing at a speed that could never be measured. He weighed the actions and consequences before coming, in a split second, to a decision. He had to make sure things moved ahead, but without any fingers pointed at the human, nor any guilt falling upon his head. There were already enough burdens on his shoulders and this was no longer Dib’s game. No, that ball had been passed into Irken hands.

The PAK whirred and clicked as the long slender legs emerged. Without physically touching Dib, he was able to gently entrap him. Then, Zim began to slowly retreat towards the bedroom, his steps slow as Dib reluctantly followed along with him.

“You need to rest, Earth-smell,” Zim said tightly as one of the legs released the human to reach out and pull the covers back. The other three began to herd him towards the bed, ushering him to lie down before Zim took his place at the side. He slid his gaze slowly along the exposed legs, noting each cut, scrape and bruise. He knew what lie beneath the t-shirt and boxers.

“I’m tired of resting,” Dib sighed as the covers, this time wielded in Zim’s own hands, were pulled up over his body.

Zim said nothing as the thin metal legs disappeared, his eyes odd and calculating.

_He truly is angry about this_, Dib’s mind whispered. He was touched, in all honesty. But what could Zim do? Ruin their day? Hurl lunch meat at them? Maybe infest them with a hoard of fleas? There was no way he could stop this horrible situation Dib had unwittingly found himself in. No one could help and they couldn’t make it go away, either. Certainly not Zim, anyway.

Dib narrowed his eyes at his nemesis who continued to stand silent at his bedside. _You’re going to do nothing more than get yourself killed, Zim. You don’t know **what** you’re messing with._

_Oh, but I do_, returned the silent answer behind the fake lenses. Zim tilted his chin up slightly, his lips pulled into a tight line as his left hand gently clasped his right wrist at the small of his back. _Pity them, human_.

*****

“Computer,” Zim said without preamble as he entered his home.

**“Ugh, _what_?**” came the surly answered. Zim, as usual, paid it no mind.

“I need the surveillance cameras located on Westbrook Avenue. Particularly any that point towards the school and that alleyway between the deli and the dry cleaners.”

There came the familiar sound of the computer acknowledging its master electronically as two large panels slipped down from the ceiling. They turned, showing their dark blank faces to Zim before four panel quadrants illuminated both screens. Zim studied eight of the live cams before reaching out to tap one.

“This. Playback the past week, pause when the Dib appears.”

**“Replaying the video feed from last week until now**,” The computer acknowledged. Zim watched the previously recorded feed, which was sped up to a level that would register as nothing but a blur to a human eye. Finally, on the previous Monday afternoon, the feed suddenly halted and then began to play at a normal speed. It was Dib. He walked along, his head down and feet almost shuffling as he made haste.

“It seems as if he’s running without trying to look like he’s running,” Zim murmured to himself. The feed suddenly sped up, day falling into night spilling into morning. There were lots of vehicular traffic, but little of foot.

“Computer,” Zim said, lost in thought. “Pause on anyone, male, that walks into that alleyway.”

“**Yes, Master**.”

Now and again, the video would pause, giving Zim the opportunity to spy on people who cut through the area. Once, it had been safe for kids who wanted to take a shortcut from school but it seemed as if they were in collective agreement these days; they avoided the area as if it held the secrets to all the horrible things in their nightmares. Zim scoffed. The video slowed, showing Dib walking by the next morning, and then once again sped up. Gaz had accompanied him that morning, it seemed, and the human appeared to be less tense.

“Computer, pause the feed.”

“**Pausing.”**

“Why don’t you just ride the bus home?” Zim murmured as he studied the paused still where Dib was frozen as he shuffled by. “Why insist on putting yourself in danger?”

That bothered him, so he decided to call Gaz. She answered on the fourth ring.

“Dad’s not here,” she greeted. She was just about to hang up when Zim called her name sharply.

“Why doesn’t Dib ride the school bus?”

“Because kids treat him like crap, you know that.”

“I don’t. I don’t need the filthy human transportation to ferry me to and from home, scary sister. And that answer isn’t satisfactory enough. Why does the Dib-stench insist on walking home when it puts his life in danger?”

There was a sigh, and then a large beat of silence. “Alright. I guess it’s fair to tell you this. It started with Dib standing up for a kid on the bus.”

When the silence stretched out again, much longer this time, Zim made a soft noncommittal hum. “What kid and why didn’t you tell me this when we spoke earlier?”

“He’s a sophomore, in my art class. These jerks used to bully and harass him all the time until Dib decided to take the heat off of him. Honestly… he had just slipped my mind. I was focused on more important matters.”

“Which kid are we talking about?”

“He’s small, probably weighs less than I do. Easy target for bullies. His name is Logan. When he stopped walking home to get away from their traps, they started riding the bus to come after him anyway. Apparently, Dib stood up for him when they had ganged up on him in the back. There was a huge fight, and Dib took them on pretty well, held his ground. Ever since then they’ve been after him more or less. I guess they took it personally and since this kid only had contact with them outside of school coming to and from, it was their only opportunity to lay into him. He rides the bus now, but those boys and Dib got suspended for the rest of the school year.”

“Interesting,” Zim said. “Anything else you could share?”

“Yeah, I found out one of their names. Lance Farmer. He’s nineteen and in the tenth grade. Sandy haired, thin, face is covered in acne scars.”

Zim made the soft noncommittal sound again. “If I send you a photograph, could you confirm if it was him?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll call you back.”

“What are you up to, Z-…” He hung up the phone and tilted his head back, gazing at the screen.

“Computer, bring up the images of anyone named Lance Farmer that lives within a twenty… no… fifty mile radius. Age nineteen. Sandy hair, scarred face.”

“**Searching**.”

“And if anyone matches that description walking by or heading into the alleyway, pause the video immediately.”

“**Yes, Master**.”

Master. Zim smirked as he clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head up. These boys running together in a feral pack had no idea of what they were about to face. Nothing human, that was for sure. The video suddenly paused and then enhanced when a man resembling the description turned into the narrow passage. He looked dodgy and nervous and Zim smiled. He loved it when his prey felt nervous.

“Computer, screen shot that and send it to Gaz’s email.”

“**Captured and sent**.”

“Thank you.”

“**You’re… you’re welcome**.” It was the first time the computer had ever thanked.

*****

Lance liked to fancy himself as an old time tough guy, and when he walked down the street, his swagger was testament of what he felt must be true. People turned their faces from him, averted their eyes and moved to get out of his way. He never stopped to think that it most likely the greasy way his hair seemed to cling to his forehead or the eruption of zits on his cheeks or chin that may have disgusted them. Or the moon crater pockmarks that was the graveyard of acne past that eroded his plain features.

It certainly couldn’t have been his smell, but if Lance were a smarter man, he would have paid more attention to the disgust that crossed the faces of those unfortunate enough to cross paths with him. He and showers, as it were, weren’t exactly friends. Often he would come to school (when he bothered going at all) wearing the same outfit for a week straight. By the time Saturday rolled around, he was usually as ripe as a dead skunk.

No, that narcissist believed the world revolved around him and he owned it all. Even Dib.

Speaking of Dib… Lance frowned. Dib had been absent for a few days. He’d finally, _finally_ gotten a taste of what he felt rightfully belonged to him and now, rather than having him whenever and however he wanted, Dib had disappeared. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and leaned against the dumpster. It was a nice day, mild with a bit of sun. A gentle breeze was blowing and it tore apart the smoke he exhaled after lighting up. Dib didn’t have his permission to disappear, and to Lance, that was a huge problem.

Now how was he going to make Dib pay? On his knees most likely, and Lance didn’t care if he could see his face or the back of his head; what was important was that he would apologize to his master and give himself up in any way the greasy loser desired.

He stood against the dumpster that stank of old trash while the metal grew warm against his back and he daydreamed of all the things he’d make Dib do in apology for making himself scarce. Dib was a handsome young man and Lance was envious of that, but as long as Dib was his, then, he could forgive him that. So lost was he in his daydreams that he didn’t even feel the prickle of warning along the back of his neck that he was being watched. It was only after movement caught his eye that he perked up.

There was that weird green kid that always seemed to pick fights and bicker with Dib. Lance grew a smug smirk on his thin lips as he pushed away from the dumpster. This little shit was always trying something and yet no matter how hard he tried, he could never get the better over on Dib. He also probably knew where Dib had been these past few days, too. It made Lance angry to think that this jackass probably had his number, too.

“Hey, jerkoff,” he called. What was that kids name? Tim? Tom?

“Tim!”

Zim walked by as if he were the only person in the world. Had he his way, that’s exactly how it _would_ have been. Miserable Tallest and their practical jokes on their beloved Invader…

“Tim!” Lance called again. Now his tone held a more authoritative flavor. Zim felt his antenna press to his head beneath his wig in irritation. How dare this vile piece of excrement raise his voice to his superior in such a way! He continued to walk, his expression unphased though beneath his calm demeanor he was seething in rage.

Zim often idled at rage.

Tossing the butt of the cigarette away, Lance launched himself forward. He stalked sullenly along behind Zim with his shoulders square and his jaw set. True, he wasn’t close to being leader of the pack; no, that was Terry, but Terry said that Lance could own Dib. This little prick walking ahead of him, having the audacity to _ignore_ him when all he wanted was to find out how Dib was, was really starting to piss him off. He’d earned his tough guy reputation and you simply didn’t ignore him when he called!

The green kid wasn’t too bad to look at honestly, if you liked that exotic look. Had a hell of a body beneath that striped tunic he had on today. Typically Zim wore clothing that fit in well with his school mates, but when he first came, he proudly and patriotically wore his military uniform. Not that Lance would have known, since he had transferred in eighth grade, after the Irken had switched to human apparel.

Zim hadn’t worn a military tunic in ages, but this morning, he couldn’t help but to wonder how well human blood would come out of it. He narrowed his eyes when he felt the air of the hand descending down, aiming for his shoulder. What Lance had meant to do was grab said shoulder to snatch him back and jerk him around to face him. It was a move cowardly bullies often used to neutralize their victims and to throw them off balance.

Zim laughed mentally as he nimbly ducked his upper body down and then spun gracefully on the ball of one foot. One hand came out, three fingers and hooked thumb wavering slowly at Lance’s throat, murder emanating from his eyes, his lips pulled into a sneer of pure hate.

“Whoa…” Lance breathed, putting his hands up and taking a step back.

“My name is **_ZIM_**!” the alien bellowed in barely contained rage, his voice rebounding along the empty walls of the alleyway.

“Yeah man, sure, sure, man, Zim… it’s Zim.”  
  
“You have no right to speak my name,” Zim hissed. Though Lance tried to back away and put some distance between he and this hyper little freak, Zim continued to walk with him, his hand still poised at Lance’s throat.

“What do you want man, I didn’t do nothing!” Lance cried out. This was getting creepy fast. All he wanted to do was find out why Dib had disappeared. Now, for the first time in oh so long, he felt a healthy trickle of fear. He tried to swallow once, twice, but there was only a ball of dust.

“What do you want?” Zim asked. His voice was calm now, almost jovial and curious. Had his expression matched his voice, Lance would have told him to go piss off, but he couldn’t.

“Dib…” Lance whispered. “Just… want to know where he’s been…”

Zim’s face began to transform. A maddening fury took place of the rage and the small youth began to grin. His eyes were aglow with an insane look of incredulity at the audacity of this human asking after Dib after beating and gang raping him in this very alleyway.

“yooooouu…” Zim hissed as his grin grew larger, and as it grew, the hold on Lance’s neck began to close. At first his fingers were hovering above the flesh, now, they were digging in. Lance’s eyes snapped open and he reached into his pocket. The snick of a blade as it came out of the handle was crisp. Zim liked that sound.

“What are you going to do with that?” Zim whispered, his hand still slowly growing stronger around that thin neck.

“Poke you if you don’t let go of me,” Lance choked out.

Zim began to laugh; softly at first, but then, he tossed his head back and really let it out. He bellowed his laughter as he slammed Lance into the brick wall, hard. Lance realized as his teeth clicked together through his tongue, that nobody as small as Zim should possess such inhuman strength. The words that came out of his mouth next, as Lance began to plunge the blade into the slender body, made him began to scream in fear.

“Foolish human!” Zim exclaimed through his maniacal laughter. “You don’t even know where my organs _are_!”

*****

“Diiiiib,” The voice was soft, lulling. “Diiiiib, wake up or I’m going to turn Gir loose in your fathers lab.”

Dib’s eyes snapped open and for a moment, he was able to see clearly through his medicated fog. When he spied Zim’s smiling face above his, he let out a groan and let his head flop back against his pillow.

“Zim,” he sighed as he rested his forearm over his eyes. “Time’sit?”

Zim grasped Dib’s pinky in his thumb and index finger, using them to lift the hand and then arm up and away from Dib’s face. He dropped them without ceremony before getting comfortable next to the human.

“I don’t know, I have no use for human time. It’s two in the afternoon, however, on Irk. That’s the only time I’m concerned with. _Important_ time.”

Dib peeked at him with one eye, and then rolled it. “You look mighty proud of yourself. What’d you do?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing, just working on my mission. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah,” Dib sighed.

They sat in silence for a while. Dib drifting off into a doze, yet still aware of what was going on around him. Zim was sitting on the side of the bed, next to Dib’s hip with one leg pulled up onto the mattress. When had Zim grown? At least he blended in. Had he been on an important mission; he would have done alright. Not that Dib still wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail to keep him from destroying humanity. As he drifted a bit deeper than a doze, yet still aware of what was going on, he began to slip into REM sleep and dream. For a while Zim continued to sit beside of him as Dib murmured to himself, to Gaz, to his father, to Zim, who actually answered back.

Zim sat patiently as he loomed forward slightly. Dib slept deeply for a while, and then came back to the doze. When he saw Zim sitting next to him on the bed, he let out a startled sound, jumping hard enough in place to bounce the bed. Zim simply tilted his head and said nothing. Time went on, Dib rested, woke, needed the restroom, later on during the night needed more pain meds. When the sun heralded forth the dawn, he finally began to wake up, his back aching from lying in place for so long.

“Are you still here?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I brought you this.” Zim held out his hand and within it was Dib’s wallet. It had been missing and now the cards inside were useless, but not the IDS and the money. Money that seemed to be more abundant than when it had been stolen during the attack. Dib took it and looked at Zim in the faint light in wonder.

“Where did you get this, Zim?”

“I found it,” Zim said.

“Where?”

“It was in the trash,” Zim answered, looking at Dib with an expression that told him to shut up, just shut up and leave it be.

Dib obliged that expression as he took his wallet. “Thank you, Zim.”

Without a job, a permanent place to sleep and always one to skip school; nobody thought to look for Lance when he went missing.


End file.
